


Twin Urges

by kuill



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Fluff, Keith/Shiro/Kuro, Keith/Shiro/Kuro love triangle, Love Triangles, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-04
Updated: 2017-02-04
Packaged: 2018-09-22 00:04:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9572846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuill/pseuds/kuill
Summary: Keith looks like he’s seen an angel. Shiro breaks into the biggest, grossest, lopsided grin. And Kuro feels his own face twist and he needs to check he’s not suddenly being force fed a lemon or something.Watching your older brother being cute with an underclassman you were just harassing is very no bueno, very unappreciated, very completely utterly unrecommended. Especially if you see him naked in the shower sometimes.For heaven’s sake. It’s abSOLUTELY DISGUSTING.-A pre-kerberos fic in which Shiro and Kuro are twins and they find out that they both have their eyes on a very specific cadet.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A casual spinoff fic of [Jin's super cute comic](http://jin-06.tumblr.com/post/156664555586/d-i-like-twins)! Thank you for letting me use your comic and AU, Jin ^^ 
> 
> Find Jin on Tumblr and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/voltron_jin) :)

Life in the Garrison is so painfully hard.

Kuro means that literally. The place is a goddamn trainwreck of red tape and bureaucracy with paper trails that lead nowhere and he’s always cleaning up someone else’s mess, and there’s nobody else except boring, stuffy, dead-eyed cadets who would rather spend their time studying for a test three weeks later than abscond with him to a secluded broom closet for some _proper_ cleanup.

To say that Kuro is loathing every moment is a very generous understatement. If anything he’s just thankful to whatever gods or aliens for giving him some talent in the air. Look, if he’s going to be grounded by all pointless laws like Garrison Code and gravity then he’ll need some compensation, thank you very much. At least he can be a rebel in the sims, yelling profanities into the comms systems and making life hell for whichever poor sod’s at the other end of the line.

Problem is, because he’s just earned his medal of honor (hilarious, he knows, but he’s already earned every spanking badge that commemorates the bad boy behaviour) there’s little to nothing differentiating him from his dearest goody two-shoes twin Shirogane.

And that’s where all the problems begin.

That fateful day Kuro trades in his garish orange blazer for the grey one and it feels great for approximately five seconds. It’s a much better cut, hugs his waist and shoulders just right, frames his torso to emphasize his muscles in all the best ways, and _damn,_ those _thighs_ —

— and one of the passing majors calls out, “Oh, Shiro? Could you help me for a sec?”

Kuro has never had anything hit him harder than this realisation: this was going to be his life for the rest of his time in the Garrison.

It was only ever “Shiro?” this, “Shiro, hey—” that, and maybe if they were generous, a “Oh sorry, you’re not Shiro… Do you happen to know where he is?”

So tragically gone are the days when he revelled in the muted gasps of “Kuro, do you wanna… help me with some advanced astrophysics after lights out?”

To be fair it’s not like he can blame them. After all they’re twins. And twins do look alike from the back. They both trade gym workout routines and cut the same imposing figure no matter what they wear (Kuro rocks a tank top much better though). They both have that strong jawline and the same flawless complexion (hell yeah they’re both gorgeous men). And that same cool fringe (swept different ways, which was something Kuro insisted on) which is why they fight over conditioner literally _all_ the _damn_ time.

Of course, there are small differences. Shiro was born with a splotch of pigment-less hair. Shiro’s eyes are grey, like the shadow of a crater; Kuro’s are pale like the surface of the moon. Much to the chagrin of everyone else, Kuro also wears studs in both ears (he initially wanted to go for spacers, so this is a compromise). And where Shiro’s scar runs across the ridge of his nose, Kuro’s tears diagonally up across his left cheek.

His older brother may have that sanguine, disarming personality going for him, but come on. Asymmetry is hotter.

Almost-symmetry, on the other hand, is really fucking not.

So this is the fate that has befallen Kurogane Takashi. It’s a day like any other, he’s minding his own business and casually putting off the paperwork for some intercontinental delivery when he hears his favorite sounds:

“Um, hi, Shi—”

“What!?” He snaps. Doesn’t matter that the voice is hesitant and nervous. Words starting with _Shi_ never end the way he wants and probably means extra legwork for him and _no,_ he is not Shirogane fucking Takashi. He’s this close to flat out buying a signboard and strapping it across his ass if it’ll help everyone else get the idea.

And he turns just in time to see something inside the cadet _shatter._

“Wait.” Kuro stands there contemplating, dragging out the moment, savoring that lost expression on the cadet’s face. “I remember you.”

Not like it matters, because damn, the poor soul’s stopped breathing.

Maybe in a minute he’ll topple to the ground like a standee. A very pretty standee, Kuro notes a second later, especially with those violet eyes frozen wide in shock.

“Keith, right?” he says cheerily, stepping forward and jabbing a digit into Keith’s cheek. _Soft._

But no response. Kuro’s reminded of all those times he slammed his palm over the top of an unopened glass bottle so the liquid inside cracks the bottom and rushes out, leaving nothing but an empty shell.

If he knew it applied to humans too he’d be losing his chill so much more often.

From so close he can see how long the cadet’s lashes are. He wants to start experimenting, pushing the limits to see what could possibly revive him. Ooh, a kiss to revive the sleeping beauty? Or reduce him to a hoarsely croaking frog prince?

“Kuro! What are you doing here!?”

Ah, the familiar voice of reason. Kuro doesn’t have a conscience, so that leaves none other than his favorite brother.

The warning hand settling heavy on his shoulder belongs to none other. Kuro knows it too well by now. As usual Shiro’s sporting his best _What the heck, Kuro, I am going to give you a very stern warning_ face that makes its appearance when Kuro’s busy harassing — er, entertaining — cadets. Kuro briefly reevaluates, well, everything. Because dear god he does not want that again. The last Stern Warning had lasted forty entire minutes and Kuro was just about ready to start begging for it to end.

Kuro growls, “What.”

Shiro growls back, “I always tell you—” and then cuts himself off with a surprised, “Keith?”

Oh, this is a tone of voice Kuro hasn’t heard before. He steps back to observe the events unfolding before him, except Shiro doesn’t have two shits to give and has all but shoved him to the side as if everything else in the room has disappeared save for Keith.

Thanks a lot, Shirogane _holy shit I am totally gay as hell_ Takashi.

Keith, on the other hand, looks like he’s seen an angel.

And Kuro, well, Kuro just seethes.

Shiro breaks into the biggest, grossest, lopsided grin and Kuro feels his own face twist and he needs to check he’s not suddenly being force fed a lemon or something. Watching your older brother being cute with an underclassman you were just harassing is very _no bueno,_ very unappreciated, very completely utterly unrecommended. Especially if you see him naked in the shower sometimes.

For heaven’s sake. It’s abSOLUTELY DISGUSTING.

“Hey Keith!”

The tenor of Shiro’s voice is _so_ much higher than usual. Shiro’s Happy Voice, probably, which Kuro _almost_ finds endearing but doesn’t because he’s petty and doesn’t like it when Shiro barges into his space like that. Seriously, doesn’t a man know how to tell _calling_ _dibs_ from poking boys in the cheek? Isn’t that a thing? If it isn’t a thing Kuro definitely wants it to be a thing.

“Everything is fine, so don’t—”

Keith puts his hands on Shiro’s cheeks and leans in.

Holds the position a good, long moment.

Shiro’s gone stone dead.

Keith’s leaking from every pore on his face.

Kuro’s just trying to summon the devil and so he can purge his entire existence and _never_ have to deal with his embarrassment of an older brother ever again.

Or perhaps trying to strike a deal with satan for some hocus pocus that will swap Shiro’s circumstance for his own.

Keith’s eyes dart across Shiro’s face — the horizontal scar, that snowy white hair, Kuro actually bristles — before he pulls back and heaves a huge sigh of relief.

Kuro huffs.

“Okay,” he says, shoving a folder into Shiro’s hands, and then with his business done the cadet leaves eagerly without another word.

Silence.

Like a statue slowly reanimating, or maybe his soul is finally realigning itself with his body, Shiro comes back to life one limb at a time.

When their eyes finally meet Shiro jumps. Clearly he has forgotten that Kuro was standing there the entire time. Watching everything unfold.

“What are you doing,” asks Kuro.

Shiro tries to make alphabets with his mouth. Unfortunately, it appears that someone _can_ lose all capacity for speech in a crisp duration of one minute.

“Cool,” says Kuro. He folds his arms, trying to play it nonchalant, but when you have things at stake you want to pull out all the stops. “So this is the Keith you keep talking about, hmm?”

Shiro rebuts eloquently, “I.”

“Mhmm hmm, yes, I see. Interesting. Very helpful. Thank you.” Kuro nods, one hand perched on his chin, tries to test the waters, “So maybe this is the year you finally get laid?”

“I’m not a virgin—”

“One, I’m not buying that story, you’re a shitty liar—”

“Kuro, you listen to me,—”

“And two, that’s not an outright no, so you _are_ trying to go after Keith—”

“— he’s just a cadet —”

“Not _just_ a cadet if you keep eyeing him up like that.” Kuro holds out a finger and finally Shiro deflates over a chair. “Now, you just let your lil bro handle this.”

Shiro puts his face in his hands. Still grinning like a little shit, Kuro strides over and begins to leaf through the brown file marked _confidential_.

“And just how are you planning to _handle_ this, _lil bro?”_ Shiro’s voice is muffled but there’s still that firm edge of determination under all that flustered helplessness, a sure sign that Shiro isn’t giving up yet.

Well, two can play this game.

“Just this one time, I’ll do the paperwork for you. You focus on putting yourself back together again — holy shit they’re planning to promote Iverson to Sergeant?!”

Shiro snatches the file back. “Get your filthy hands off.”

“Okay, jeez,” Kuro puts his hands up.

“And _keep_ your filthy hands away from Keith.” Shiro jabs the brown file at him like a sword.

Kuro grins. “Hey, now. What gives _you_ the more right to him than me? He’s fair game.”

“Fair?” Shiro snorts. Some of his composure has come back to him, stiffening his brow, setting his jaw, “You’re never fair.”

“Right and wrong.”

Kuro slams the file onto the table, but used to his showy antics, Shiro doesn’t let go. They glare for a long moment. Someone enters the lounge, sees the staredown, and then backs the fuck out with a clatter of harried footsteps.

“I swear, big bro,” Kuro says, “Yesterday you’d object to me describing Keith as _game.”_

“See? Playing dirty already,” Shiro says.

“Go to hell.”

Kuro lets go of the file, and a second later Shiro does too. The edge of Shiro’s lip twitches up a little bit.

“Go to hell!” Kuro says again, exasperated.

“Alright, look, I’ll offer a truce for now.” Shiro pauses here and Kuro folds his arms, waiting.

They both glance at the doorway. Thankfully, it remains empty. Not like it matters, Kuro would chase away whoever it was that interrupted this very important—

“Imagine how he'll sound like saying Taka—” Shiro’s voice breaks and melts into a broken sound, at which Kuro has to choke back an ugly laugh before it can escape.

But damn, his own cheeks are burning. It’s a sign that he should just set himself on fire and save hell the trouble.

Especially since he’s not telling Shiro about that cute breathy gasp Keith made. Hey, Shiro got to be grabbed _by the face,_ Kuro needs his own triumph over him, okay.

Besides, the only thing ‘fair’ about all this is that love is war.

“You are straight up disgusting, Shirogane _help me I can’t talk when I see a cute guy_ Takashi.”

“You’re one to talk, Kurogane _I refuse to admit I have the same tastes as my older brother_ Takashi.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Jin drew a scene from this fic I'm _dying_ because it became EVEN BETTER.
> 
> [Check out Jin's contribution!!!](https://twitter.com/voltron_jin/status/828170620508647426) DO IT.
> 
> Matt. Of course it would be Matt... God knows he's already running on -3 hours of sleep and he just wants someplace where he can be spared from the endless spiels of "That cute cadet, yeah, the one who flies like a bird, do you know him, I'm wondering if I should go talk to him after class" or "THE DAMN CADET WON'T LOOK AT ME WHO DOES HE THINK HE IS I am going to drag him out of class and rough him up a bit, YES with my mouth who do you think I am"


End file.
